


Back in the Middle Again

by pyrrhical (anoyo)



Category: Eureka (TV), Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: AU - Eureka Timeline, AU - crossover, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2018-09-28 13:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10103792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anoyo/pseuds/pyrrhical
Summary: For a prompt fill at fic_promptly@DW.Jack gets to meet Nathan's cousin: Tony Stark. He also gets to be a buffer.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Enmuse (Scifiroots)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scifiroots/gifts).



> I just had to do this when I saw the prompt. Had to.
> 
> Original prompt found [here](http://fic-promptly.dreamwidth.org/170229.html?thread=7584757#cmt7584757).
> 
> God I enjoyed writing this.

“ _You might want to come to my office_ ,” the text reads. Jack stares at his phone a bit, wondering if this is some sort of prank, if Nathan just wants an afternoon quickie, or if something serious has happened. He’s sitting at his desk at the Sheriff’s Office, and the phone hasn’t rung, but that doesn’t mean nothing’s wrong. Why dial 911 when you have the Sheriff himself at your beck-and-call?

Jack shoots a quick text back, “ _There in 10, unless something explodes,_ ” and tells the room at large that he’s stepping out. The empty room doesn’t seem to mind.

If takes Jack closer to fifteen minutes to reach Global Dynamics, but then, he had given an explosion caveat, and it’s not his fault they happen so ungodly often.

It takes him another two minutes to actually _reach_ Nathan’s office -- exploding goo -- but when he does, it’s to Nathan pacing back and forth in a very disconcerting way. 

“You buzzed?” Jack asks, leaning in the doorframe. 

Nathan looks startled to see him for a second, then obviously remembers the text he sent. Jack has long since gotten over Nathan’s tendency to turn Jack into one of those things he doesn’t really have to think about. Really, it’s probably a compliment. 

Probably. 

“Yes,” Nathan says, stopping his pacing to stare at Jack. “Come in, and shut the door.”

Jack’s really starting to feel like option two might be the winner.

“My cousin is here,” Nathan says. “He’s making a business deal with GD. Once he and Allison are done arguing and making lawyers cry, he’s headed over here.” Nathan gives Jack a somewhat pleading look. “I just found out this morning.”

Jack lets the silence sit for a while before he says, “Okay? Is this a problem?”

Nathan gives Jack a look that says, plainly, exactly how much of an idiot Nathan thinks he is at this particular moment, as opposed to the rest of them. 

“Okay, sure, problem.” Jack pauses. “I didn’t know you _had_ any cousins.”

“Everyone has cousins,” Nathan says, waving his hand. Jack would point out that no, that’s not true, _he_ doesn’t have any cousins, but that would be about as effective as arguing with a wall, so he doesn’t. “And he’s not my first cousin. He’s my second cousin.”

“I’m still not seeing the problem, Nathan,” Jack says, taking a seat on Nathan’s desk. “So your cousin is visiting. Unless there’s some weird backstory I don’t have, I got nothing.”

Nathan rolls his eyes at Jack’s double negative, but says, “We compete.” 

There’s a pause, and Jack concludes he was supposed to get something out of that. “And?” he says, moving his hands in a “go on” gesture.

“And nothing. We compete. He’s a competitive, arrogant ass,” Nathan says.

Jack refrains from making the obvious comparison. “Yeah, I get the competition thing, Nathan. Lots of family members compete over things. I’m asking what you compete _in_.”

“Science,” Nathan says, scowling, as if there was any other answer.

In retrospect, Jack realizes there probably wasn’t. “How do you compete over science? Who has the most Nobel Prizes? Whose work is the most commonplace? The size of your algorithms?” Jack’s still not sure how this is a problem, other than the obvious ego clash that he’s going to have to witness.

Nathan rolls his eyes, which is what Jack expected, honestly. “The problem is who’s winning,” Nathan says, finally sitting down in the leather chair in front of Jack, the one usually reserved for those staring across the desk at Nathan’s general, and often specific, frustration. With Jack sitting on Nathan’s desk, there are only a few feet separating them, and Jack can clearly make out the frown lines between Nathan’s eyebrows.

“So,” he asks, nudging Nathan’s leg with his boot, “who’s winning?”

“It’s difficult to create an accurate scale,” Nathan says.

“He is, then,” Jack says, grinning.

He gets a glare for his troubles. Nathan seems to lean even further into the chair. “I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to be on my side,” he says.

“Sorry, I left my pom-poms at the office,” Jack says, still grinning. “Who’s older?”

Nathan gives him a look, one Jack has filed as “I’m sure you have a point, but it’s likely so ridiculous that I have no idea where it’s going.” It’s a nice improvement from the look that used to occupy Nathan’s reaction to Jack’s seeming non-sequiturs, really.

“Seriously,” Jack says, nudging Nathan’s knee again. 

“He is, by about five years,” Nathan says.

Jack nudges Nathan’s knee again, mostly for fun, and Nathan bats his foot away. “So, if you put it on a continuum, as long as you’re less than five years behind him, you could argue that _you’re_ winning.”

Raising an eyebrow, Nathan says drily, “This is why we don’t let you make any of the important decisions.”

“Yeah,” Jack says, equally dry, “I’m pretty sure I make all of the important decisions, right after the rest of you decision yourselves into sentient electricity, or gelatinous cubes falling out of the sky, or decide multiverse theory is something you ought to teacher high schoolers.”

Nathan winces. “I’ll admit that last was not one of my better ideas.” 

“I’m pretty sure ‘ _that wasn’t one of my better ideas_ ’ is what they’re going to put on your gravestone, Nathan,” Jack says, leaning back on his hands and grinning.

It works. He gets a small huff of laughter out of Nathan, and the accompanying eye roll. “And yours will read, ‘ _genius-baiting was his favorite pastime_.”

Jack considers. “It’s sure up there,” he says. “I mean, probably not my favorite, but I’ll give it top five status.”

Nathan huffs again before his intercom goes off, and Fargo’s voice says, “Mr. Stark -- I mean, the other Mr. Stark -- I mean your cousin -- I mean -- he’s on his way.”

“I need an actual assistant,” Nathan says, standing up and staring at his intercom.

“You’d miss Fargo,” Jack says, leaning forward into Nathan’s personal space. “So,” he continues, “this is all a conversation we could have had over the phone.”

“We could have,” Nathan agrees, putting his hands on Jack’s shoulders.

“Are you going to tell me why I’m here?”

Nathan looks at him for a while before saying, “Moral support.”

“And to be the stupidest person in the room?” Jack asks.

Nathan smiles. “And that.” He moves one hand to the back of Jack’s neck and kisses him. 

When their lips part, Jack snorts. Nathan gives him a look, still overwhelmingly in his personal space. “Yeah, if you think that’s paying for my ego-buffering services, you are mistaken.”

Nathan kisses him again, longer and more deeply, and gives Jack a raised eyebrow when he leans back.

“Escalate that by about a hundred, and we’ll be about there,” Jack says, moving to lean back on his hands again. Nathan steps back from where he’d been standing between Jack’s legs -- and when that had happened, Jack wasn’t entirely sure -- and laughs. 

“Put it on my tab,” Nathan says. 

Before Jack can respond that Nathan’s tab is about ten miles long, and, honestly, Nathan’s going to be paying that off for the rest of his life, there’s a knock on the office door, and Nathan has moved around the chair and completely out of Jack’s personal space.There was a time where Jack might have resented that, but he’s stopped paying attention to the things Nathan does automatically. Eventually, he’ll get over them. A lot of them he already has.

“Come in,” Nathan says, his voice professional and cold. Jack stays where he is, but he sits up straighter and drops his hands in his lap. 

The door opens to a man in sunglasses -- inside, really? -- who looks like what would happen if Nathan stopped scowling all the time and decided to become a playboy instead. “Nathan,” the man says, smiling, as he takes off his sunglasses and shoves them into a shirt pocket. He’s wearing a nice suit, which he somehow manages to make look casual. 

“Tony,” Nathan responds, crossing his arms and not returning the smile. 

“Other human,” the man -- Tony -- says in the same tone he used to greet Nathan while turning to smile at Jack.

“Jack Carter,” Jack says, introducing himself with a wave and a smile.

Tony looks him up and down, then turns back to Nathan. “Lunch?” Tony asks. “I left Steve at that coffee place, and he’s probably had a tech heartattack by now.” He gestures to Jack. “Of course, Mr. Carter can come, too.”

“How magnanimous,” Nathan says, his best what-is-this-thing-stuck-to-my-shoe voice on.

“Sounds great,” Jack says, pushing himself off Nathan’s desk. 

“After you,” Tony says, stepping back and gesturing out the door. 

Jack looks over to see Nathan putting on his suit jacket before he heads toward the door. “Thanks,” he says, tipping an imaginary hat. 

When they get to Cafe Diem, Jack goes to the counter to get himself a coffee and order a burger. 

“I like you already,” Tony says. He turns to Vincent. “Same.”

Vincent gives Tony a look, then turns to Nathan. “Dr. Stark?”

“Coffee and a turkey club,” Nathan says, his usual order.

“You guys taking a table?” Vincent asks. 

Tony turns and glances around the room. “That one,” he says, pointing to a table where a blond man is scrolling through Cafe Diem’s digital menu and looking bemused.

“Be out in a few,” Vincent says.

“I’ll stay and wait for the coffee,” Jack offers, sitting down at the counter. 

Nathan looks at him, but doesn’t say anything, a clear sign that he’s not amused by Jack’s offer. 

Tony cuts in with a, “Thanks,” before heading back toward their table. 

“Not funny,” Nathan mutters before turning and following his cousin.

Jack grins, then turns back to Vincent. 

“I’m not even going to ask,” Vincent says. “The last time I had both Starks in here I had to rebuild the back wall.”

Laughing, Jack says, “That bad, huh?”

“Your funeral bad,” Vincent says, setting the three mugs of coffee in front of Jack. “I’d run away now.”

“I think I’m stuck,” Jack says ruefully. “It’s in the bylines or something. ‘ _Thou shalt not abandon thy partner to the clutches of his obviously related cousin_.’ I’ll get kicked out of the club.”

“The blond guy seems friendly enough,” Vincent says, nodding toward the man in question. “Join forces and you might survive.”

Jack salutes, then stands up and awkwardly carries the three cups of coffee to the back of the cafe. Nathan gives him a look when he arrives, but just says, “Thank you,” when Jack puts their coffees on the table.

“Ditto,” Tony says, taking a sip of his.

“No problem,” Jack says, sliding into the chair next to Nathan. “Did I miss anything exciting?”

“Just Tony trying to ask who you are without actually asking who you are,” the blond man -- presumably Steve -- says, smiling. “He does that.” Jack likes him already.

“Sounds like a family trait,” he says, grinning back. He reaches diagonally across the table to Presumably Steve -- he’s across from Tony, which says things about Nathan’s backbone that Jack will laugh about later -- and says, “Jack Carter,” putting out his hand to shake.

“Steve Rogers,” the man -- definitely Steve -- says, shaking his hand. After Jack sits back, Steve asks, “You’re a police officer?”

“The Sheriff,” Jack says. “There aren’t actually any officers in Eureka -- just me and two deputies.”

Steve raises his eyebrows. “Not a lot of trouble, then?”

Jack almost snorts his coffee. “Not a lot of need for arrests,” he says. “Plenty of trouble.”

“None of this really answers my question,” Tony says, drawing Jack’s attention back over. Tony looks at Steve and grins. “The one Steve put so bluntly.”

“Just doing my civic duty,” Steve says, perfectly calmly. Jack really, really likes him.

“He’s my partner,” Nathan says calmly, though Jack recognizes the tone for Nathan’s version of trying not to blow up.

“Married again?” Tony asks, just as the burgers arrive, by way of Zoe, who Jack actually hadn’t noticed walk in. His A+ parenting really kicks in sometimes. 

“No,” Zoe says, smiling as she sets down the burgers. “And I quote, ‘ _No weddings, oh god, please no_.’ I’m pretty sure there was some hand waving there, too.”

“It was no _Eureka_ wedding,” Jack says, reaching out to pull Zoe into a hug. She does her teenager thing and looks as put-upon as possible while offering no resistance. “I have nothing against weddings in general. Case in point: your mother. It’s Eureka weddings that scare the hell out of me.”

“So we drive thirty minutes and you’re cool?” Zoe asks, grinning.

“Eureka will follow us. Eureka always follows us,” Jack says, shuddering a little.

“Not a native, then?” Tony asks, taking a sip of his coffee and glancing between Jack and Zoe. 

“No,” Jack says, at the same time as Zoe.

“Dad got hijacked,” Zoe says, as though this is an explanation. She turns around and looks back at the counter. “Looks like Henry’s order’s up.”

“What time are you off?” Jack asks.

“Nine,” Nathan answers before Zoe does. “Her schedule is on the fridge.”

Zoe grins, “See, it’s cute how you think dad opens the fridge and doesn’t make S.A.R.A.H. do it for him.”

“All right, fine, nine,” Jack says, putting his hand up. “Message received.”

Zoe turns around again and grins. “Vincent’s scowling at me. I should go.” She turns, then pauses. “Nathan, can you look over my astrophysics project before I present tomorrow?”

“Hey,” Jack says, “you procrastinate, your problem.”

“Of course,” says Nathan. 

Zoe smiles cutely. “This is why you’re my favorite.”

“Oh, just go do your job before Vincent fires you again,” Jack says, shoving his daughter in the general direction of the counter.

“She seems like a good kid,” Steve says, pulling Jack’s attention away from Zoe walking back to pick up Henry’s order. 

“She is,” Jack says. He knows he’s smiling, even though he should feel at least the slightest bit betrayed.

“She’s taking astrophysics?” Tony asks. “No offense, but you seem pretty average.”

Jack gives that one a minute. “Fluke of nature,” he says, keeping the smile on his face. “Or proximity to Eureka during formative years. One or the other.”

Steve laughs and Tony smiles. Nathan is still sitting like something’s going to jump out and try to disembowel him at any moment.

“What’s her name?” Steve asks, maintaining his status as Jack’s favorite person at the table.

“Zoe,” Jack says. “She just got early admission to MIT.”

“Congrats,” Steve says. “Tony went to MIT.” He looks at Tony, and Jack recognizes the look on his face as one he’s given Nathan more times than he can count. It’s the ‘ _this is how to have polite conversation_ ’ look.

“Yes, I did,” says Tony.

“Cool,” Jack says, not sure how else to respond.

Steve turns to Tony and obviously tries again. “How did your sale go?”

Jack feels Nathan tense, and sighs a little. 

“Great,” Tony says, grinning. “GD bought up a nice chunk of the nanite processors we have completed, and made an order for more once they’re finished.”

Jack starts to respond, then pauses. “That’s engineering, right?” he looks to Nathan for confirmation, then to Tony.

“Right,” Tony says. Before he can start the incomprehensible speech Jack can see is coming, Jack continues,

“And you do theoretical physics.” He gives Nathan a look.

This time Nathan responds. First by giving him a look that suggests he might actually have overestimated Jack’s intelligence, and then by saying, “Yes. Obviously.”

Steve grins. Jack has a feeling he knows where Jack’s going with this. Jack asks, “Steve, did your Stark give you some weird ego thing about competing?”

“Yup,” Steve says, “though I’ve actually watched it before. It’s great.”

Jack makes a note of that. He looks between Nathan and Tony. “Maybe I’m not smart enough to understand, I don’t know, but how are you competing when you’re not even in the same field? Engineering’s a practical science, you build things, they work, and you have something you can stick on the market.” He pauses. “No offense. I’m sure it’s more complicated than that.”

Tony shrugs. “That’s about the gist, though I don’t sell everything I make.”

“And theoretical physics is time and space and the theory of existence, or whatever,” Jack says, less worried about offending Nathan. 

“Or whatever, yes,” Nathan says, finally finding a facial expression. It’s annoyance, and it’s pointed at Jack, but Jack’s going to count it as a win, anyway.

“So how do you measure this competition, then? Wouldn’t it be like someone who’s hitting the ball comparing his talent to the coach who arranged the batting line-up?” Jack asks, looking between both Starks.

Steve starts laughing. “I like you,” he says. Jack’s glad the sentiment goes both ways.

“It’s based on advances to the field,” Nathan says, scowling. 

“I’m failing to see how that doesn’t follow my baseball metaphor,” Jack says.

“I think he’s got you,” Steve says. He looks at Tony. “Both of you.”

“It’s measurable,” Nathan says.

Tony nods. “Totally measurable.”

“You’re both full of shit,” Jack concludes. “This is just the regular family posturing. With some obviously genetic added ego.”

Nathan’s outright glaring at him now, and Tony looks slightly less entertained -- which Jack is assuming is his glaring face, who knows -- and Steve is laughing outright.

“It’s a completely legitimate comparison,” Nathan says again.

“I’m sure you think so,” says Jack. “But I am way less sympathetic now.”

Steve laughs. “Same.” He grins at Jack. “Want to go for a walk?”

“Absolutely.” Jack ignores the betrayed look Nathan shoots his way and sees Steve doing the same with Tony’s.

“Know anywhere interesting?” Steve asks as they leave the cafe.

“Have you ever seen a talking house?” Jack asks.

“Actually,” Steve says, “I have.”

“Huh.”


End file.
